


Television (House)

by CaptainTulip



Series: Television [1]
Category: House M.D.
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-03
Updated: 2019-06-03
Packaged: 2020-04-07 02:50:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19075963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainTulip/pseuds/CaptainTulip
Summary: House is watching... television, and Wilson joins him. Set during season 2.





	Television (House)

Wilson slowly opens his eyes, sticky from lack of sleep. A yawn escapes his mouth, and he looks down and sighs as he realises he'd fallen asleep with his clothes on again. His light blue shirt is wrinkled, and as he sits up on the bed he smoothes it absent mindedly. He still has his shoes on, even, and his toes are starting to throb. He kicks them off, not bothering to undo the laces, and stands up, stretching slowly. He is just about to shuffle into the shower when he hears a loud moan.  
  
Wilson freezes, the hairs on the back of his head going up. The moan was definitely female, and it was  _definitely_  somewhere in the apartment.  
  
"He wouldn't," Wilson mutters darkly to himself, but  _he_  would. Wilson takes a deep breath and walks slowly down the hall to the lounge. He stops just outside the door, and takes a breath. "You busy?" he calls.  
  
"I'm an axe murderer in the process of sharpening my blade. Don't come in," replies a dry voice, and Wilson rolls his eyes and steps into the room.  
  
"Idiot," he says. "I thought I heard-" But the rest of the sentence dies on his lips when he catches sight of the lewd images displayed on the television screen. Two women, apparently sharing some quality time together. Nakedly, and explicitly. House's eyes are glued to the screen. "House!" escapes before Wilson can control himself, and the accusatory tone lingers at the edges of his mouth as he tries to pull his eyes away from the screen to glare at House.  
  
"Told you I was sharpening my blade," House says distractedly. Wilson winces, and House turns to look at him, clearly amused. "What, they don't teach you euphemisms at Prat School?"  
  
"You-" Wilson points his finger at the screen, strengthening his resolve. "You can't watch that stuff here."  
  
"Why not?" House says, glancing at Wilson. "No point in having cable if you can't watch  _porn_ -"  
  
"Because-" Wilson sighs. "Because it's the lounge, and I'm here, and you're-"  
  
House sighs. "A functioning human being? Yeah, unlike some other repressed-"  
  
"I'm not repressed," Wilson protests, and House raises an eyebrow, and turns his head back to the screen. Wilson folds his arms across his chest, frowning, still gazing at the television.  
  
"Go back to bed, Jimmy. Daddy needs some time alone-"  
  
"I'm not tired," Wilson retorts. He just his chin out, somewhat. "And I'm not going back to my room."  
  
"The rebellious teenager card. Nice."  
  
Wilson frowns, managing to turn his gaze on House. "I've watched porn before, you know. It's not like I'm...a prude, or something."  
  
House clenches his teeth.  
  
"In fact," Wilson says, and walks over to the couch, planting himself down next to House, "I might just join you now."  
  
House stays frozen for a moment, staring down at the ground, before he turns his head and looks at Wilson. "Three's company," he says, gesturing to the television with his head. "Four's a crowd."  
  
Wilson sets his jaw determinedly, and keeps his eyes set on the television. His cheeks start to flush as one of the girls moans and encourages the other, working apparently very assiduously between her legs. His breath start to quicken, ever so slightly, and he clenches his hands. He is suddenly rather aware of the man sitting less than a meter away from him on the couch. He wonders if maybe this was particularly the  _best_  time to stand up to House. They watch it for a few moments, as Wilson's mouth gets a little dry and his pants get a little huggy, before House snorts slightly.  
  
"Well, I'm sure glad this isn't awkward."  
  
"It's not," Wilson assures him, a little too flippantly. "Two guys - friends watching porn isn't..." But he forgets what he's going to say as fingers become involved. His mouth falls open a little, making it easier to allow oxygen to his slowly clouding brain.  
  
House clears his throat, drumming his fingers on his leg, and Wilson turns to see him gazing pointedly at Wilson's lap.  
  
Wilson blushes deeply, feeling the pink flush down his neck and out to his ears. "I...it's only..." He tries to think of something to say, but his mouth feels sticky and his tongue inflated, so he talks silently to his lap instead, trying to will it down.  
  
House opens his mouth to say something, but frowns slightly and turns his head back to the television, apparently thinking better of it. He laces his fingers together, and squeezes them absent-mindedly. The subconscious movement does funny things to Wilson's stomach, and he grips his fingers into the couch. He holds his breath and slowly spreads his legs a little wider.  _Just for room_ , he tells himself.  
  
House swallows. "This stuff," he says thickly, and has to clear his throat before continuing. "This stuff is all bullshit, anyway. They're faking all of it, they always do." He licks his lips a little.  
  
Wilson's hand moves down to rub his thigh a little. "Maybe with you..." he allows himself to joke, and is pleased to see House smirk a little. His satisfaction is short-lived, though, and he makes a last, futile attempt to will down his burgeoning erection as one of the girls produces a rather large toy.  
  
"Touche," House mutters, and shakes his head softly. "I'll have you know Amber moans like a professional hooker when we get down and dirty," he says, adjusting his position on the couch.  
  
Wilson snorts. "She  _is_  a professional hooker!" he protests, and tries not to think about House 'getting down and dirty' with a whore. His breath catches as the toy on the screen is put into...action.   
  
"Amber prefers the term 'escort'," House informs him dryly, and Wilson nods absently.  
  
"I'll bet she does," he murmurs, and they are silent for a while, apart from their harsh breathing. The moans fill the apartment obscenely, and Wilson hopes that no one around them can hear. His heart is pounding, and as one girl does a rather tricky manoeuver, he hisses, and can't resist rubbing the bulge in his pants a little.  
  
"If you whip it out..." House warns loudly, and Wilson jerks his hand away from his pants. It lands on something warm and soft, and Wilson gasps as he realises he's just put his hand on House's thigh.  
  
"Sorry," he mumbles furiously, and he can feel his blush worsening. He jerks his hand back, but not before his eyes get caught on the rather large bulge in House's pants. His mouth falls open, and he can't believe House has an  _erection_. Of course, he'd known, theoretically, that it was anatomically possible for House, being male, to become aroused, but to have it happening right there in front of him...  
  
Unsurprisingly, it was a concept he'd never given much thought to.  
  
House winces a little, and his fingers twitch, but Wilson can't pull his eyes away.  
  
"Do you  _mind_?" House finally snaps, and Wilson starts and looks quickly back to the screen.  
  
"Uh," slips from his mouth, and he forces himself to swallow. He searches around for something to say. "She's, er..." he begins, turning his head slightly to get a better view.  
  
"Flexible?" House supplies, and Wilson nods. "She's from Scotland, did you know that?"  
  
Wilson shakes his head.  
  
"You can't pick it. Moans are pretty international."  
  
Wilson nods his head.  
  
"Apparently she wanted to become a lawyer, but-"  
  
"How do you know all this?" Wilson interrupts, his voice catching a little, and House shrugs.  
  
"Pieced it together," he says, and gives a little cough that sounds like a it's muffling a groan of some sort.  
  
Wilson sucks in a breath, and shifts on the couch. "From what?" He blinks, realising he hasn't done so in while, and his eyes are stinging.  
  
"Other videos. What, you think she has a  _blog_?"  
  
Wilson's mouth falls open as a final position is decided upon, and he pants a little. He licks his lip, his eye glued, all conversation gone from his head.  _Damn it all_ , he thinks, and slides his hand back down to rub at his cock. He glances over at House guiltily, only to see House doing the same, his elegant hand massaging his crotch.  
  
"Oh God," slips from his mouth, and fixes his eyes on the screen again. "House," he says breathily, "I think I need to-"  
  
"Do it," House says sharply, and Wilson doesn't stop to think. He unzips his trousers with fumbling fingers, and slips his hand in to wrap around his cock. He starts pulling on it roughly, unable to stop the groans and grunts that come tumbling out of his mouth, and a few feverishly awkward minutes, he comes with a startled cry.  
  
The video comes to an end, and Wilson blushes profusely, and delicately does up his pants. He looks over to House, who picks up the television remote and turns it off. His pants are still bulging.  
  
"You-" Wilson says breathily. "You didn't-"  
  
House snorts. "Of course not," he says. "Wanking over dirty porn with a friend in the room, what kind of person would I be?"  
  
Wilson's mouth falls open. "I-"  
  
"Shut up." House reaches for a cane, and stands up. "Take a shower," he mutters, and limps away into his bedroom.  
  
Wilson's mouth opens and closes, and he sits there for a moment, shock numbing his system.  _I can't believe I just did that,_  he thinks.  _I just touched myself in front of House_. He repeats the sentence a few times in his head, the full impact weighing heavier and heavier on him with each repetition. The clock ticks in the background, and he feels like he's gone through into another dimension. He shakes his head, feeling miserable, and slowly makes his way into the bathroom.  
  
Just before he turns on the shower, he hears House settling onto the bed.


End file.
